


The Best Part of Waking Up

by LostGirl



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top!Mohinder, bottom!Matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-22
Updated: 2007-10-22
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl/pseuds/LostGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut, smut, smut, and, oh look, more smut! *G*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Part of Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** The Best Part of Waking Up  
>  **Author:** [](http://lostgirlslair.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lostgirlslair.livejournal.com/)**lostgirlslair**  
>  **Fandom:** Heroes  
>  **Pairing:** Matt/Mohinder  
>  **Rating:** NC-17 (FRAO)  
>  **Summary:** Smut, smut, smut, and, oh look, more smut! *G*  
>  **Spoilers:** "Four Months Later" (2x01)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All things Heroes belong to Tim Kring and . . . er, other people who are definitely not me.
> 
> Big huge thanks to [](http://nevermindirah.livejournal.com/profile)[**nevermindirah**](http://nevermindirah.livejournal.com/), for the wonderful beta magic! Any remaining errors are entirely my own.

Mohinder loves the mornings best, those times when Molly is sleeping peacefully and Matt lies snoring next to him. The apartment feels cozy, quiet, safe. Before they'd come, it had been filled with memories of pain and guilt, and thoughts of his father and the mystery he'd died trying to solve.

Now, two small pieces of that mystery sleep while Mohinder ponders them. He'd never believed it possible to feel so much for anyone, let alone two people, but he's been proven wrong so many times in his life and this is surely the best of them. But, it's more than what he feels for them. It's the life they've created, the home they've made. He finds it incredible to be so blessed.

Mohinder snorts at his own fanciful thoughts, but his hand still reaches out, his fingers brush along the bridge of Matt's nose. Matt grumbles but doesn't move and Mohinder's fingers skims along his cheek and across his lips. They twitch into a smile beneath his touch. Mohinder glances up to find Matt watching him.

"Hi," Matt says, his eyes bleary with sleep.

"Hello." Mohinder draws his hand away, but Matt reaches up and threads his fingers between Mohinder's.

"What were you doing?" Matt asks, sounding genuinely unsure. Mohinder gives an embarrassed smile.

"Being a sap, I'm afraid. You?" he asked, squeezing Matt's hand.

"Dreaming about a sap," Matt says, grinning and pulling Mohinder's hand to the side until Mohinder has to sprawl on top of him.

"Anyone I know?" Mohinder returns the grin, holding his lips just out of reach, delaying their kiss. Matt pretends to think about it and Mohinder drums the fingers of his free hand against his pillow.

"Matthew," he says, and he doesn't have to work all that much to make his tone impatient.

Matt's grin only grows larger at Mohinder's tone. "Yeah, I think you know him. Smart. Sexy. The whole package."

Mohinder rolls his eyes, though he can't keep himself from smiling. "Can we stop now, so I can kiss you?"

Matt laughs, a little too loudly. The sound doesn't wake Molly because Mohinder muffles it with a kiss.

They taste one another slowly, hands exploring exposed skin. Mohinder straddles Matt, planting his hands on the pillows above his lover's shoulders. Matt's large hands come to rest on his hips and the feel of skin against skin makes Mohinder choke back a moan. He closes his eyes to better feel Matt's thumbs rubbing over the jut of his hipbones.

"Love seeing you like this," Matt breathes against Mohinder's stubbled cheek. "Love watching you move."

Mohinder slides back, bringing his hard cock into contact with Matt's, and the friction is glorious, sparking along his nerves, making his skin tingle and flush. Matt's hands stroke along his back, slow and strong, and then grip his shoulders, using the leverage to push up against Mohinder. Mohinder opens his eyes, watching as Matt's eyes close, as his lips part on an inaudible sigh.

He leans in, licking a path up Matt's neck, Mohinder nips at his jaw and nibbles back to Matt's ear. He works his hips, sliding his erection against Matthew's, reveling in the ragged gasp of Matt's breath in his ear.

"Beautiful," he whispers before nipping at Matt's earlobe. Precum smoothes the way and their cocks glide against one another, sending jolts of pleasure all the way to Mohinder's toes. Matt's hands return to grip Mohinder's hips, pressing him down for more of that wonderful friction. Mohinder raises his head, rubbing his cheek along Matt's, suddenly breathless at the sensation of stubble rasping against stubble.

Matt groans in his ear, and then catches Mohinder's lips in a kiss, one hand cording through Mohinder's black curls. Matt's lips are hot and wet, firm beneath his own and swollen from their kisses.

Mohinder drags his mouth from Matt's. "I'm not done with you yet," he says, grinning. He presses his hands against Matthew's shoulders and keeps his lips just out of reach.

Matt chuckles, but it's quickly lost in a soft groan as Mohinder slides down farther, the patch of crisp hair on his belly rubbing along Matt's cock.

Nipping at Matt's Adam's apple as he passes, Mohinder licks a zigzag path down. Matt's skin tastes clean and salty and warm. Mohinder seeks out the scars, licking and nipping at the too-smooth skin. Matt gasps, his fingers tightening in Mohinder's hair, his body arching up against Mohinder's mouth.

He was nervous the first time Mohinder paid any attention to his scars. Mohinder had ignored his protest, had asked why Matt was so embarrassed by marks of his heroism. Matt had been too stunned to object after that, and then he'd been too occupied.

Mohinder nibbles his way from scar to scar before licking a circle around Matt's navel and biting gently at the skin beneath it. Matt raises his head to watch, his eyes shining.

"Beautiful," Mohinder says with his lips pressed to Matthew's skin. He isn't sure he can ever say it enough, isn't sure that Matt will ever truly believe him, but he finds it hard to hold in nonetheless. Matt opens his mouth to reply, but Mohinder doesn't give him time, instead sliding his lips down, lapping at the junction of thigh and groin.

Matt groans, his body arching. Mohinder grins up at him, sliding his hands to Matt's hips. He loves to have Matt this way, gasping and trying to stifle his groans with his arm. It's the one time Matthew lets go, the one time he isn't at all self-conscious. It's a sight to behold and Mohinder pauses to take in the line of Matt's shoulders, straining to keep his grip on Mohinder's hair and body gentle, protecting, even now. His eyes run over Matt's face, lost for that one moment in pure sensation.

"You're staring," Matt says with a chuckle, opening his eyes to look down at Mohinder, his fingers sliding through Mohinder's hair and brushing along his shoulder.

"I'm taking a moment to appreciate my good fortune."

Shaking his head, Matt grins shyly, his eyes skittering away from Mohinder's. Mohinder can see all the old insecurities flitting over Matthew's face, and he doesn't give them time to get comfortable.

Mohinder lowers his head, licking at the base of Matt's cock. Matt's head lulls back, his mouth opening in an almost silent moan as Mohinder brushes his lips along the underside before swirling his tongue around the head. When he takes Matt's cock between his lips, sucking gently, he can feel the strain in the body beneath him.

"God, Mohinder," Matt breathes, "You're killing me."

"La petit mort," Mohinder agrees as he teases Matt's cock with lips and tongue.

Matt's fingers tangle in Mohinder's hair, his grip tightening. "Trying to confuse me with the French, huh?" Matt gasps out. "I thi--"

The words cut off as Mohinder slides his lips down around the length of Matt's cock. Matt makes a strangled, desperate sound, one hand gripping hard at Mohinder's shoulder and the other tugging at Mohinder's hair.

Mohinder works his lips along Matt's length; his pace quickening as Matt's breathing grows ragged and harsh. Matt comes with a shout muffled in the crook of his arm, his muscles relaxing under Mohinder's hands.

Grinning, Mohinder works his way upward, laying small, quick kisses on each of Matt's scars. Matt's hands rest on Mohinder's shoulders, sliding over his skin as Mohinder moves upward.

Mohinder opens his mouth to speak, but Matt doesn't give him time. He surges up, catching Mohinder's lips, his hands roaming over Mohinder's backside. Humming happily at the feel of it, Mohinder pushes against those strong hands. Matt breaks the kiss to reach into the drawer of the nightstand. He pulls out the lube bottle, grinning as he offers it to Mohinder.

Mohinder brushes his fingers against Matt's palm as he takes the bottle and then he dribbles the lubrication over Matt's chest, sliding his fingers through it. Matt arches into his touch, his eyes intent on Mohinder's face and his expression . . . Mohinder wants to ask him what he sees, but Matt grips his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

It's just a little different than the others; hot and hard, but there's more to it. Mohinder gets lost in this kiss and it's a long moment before he can bring himself to break free. He nips at Matt's jaw as he slides his hand along Matt's thigh, brushing Matt's balls just to see him gasp and jump.

"Turn over," Mohinder says, his voice hoarse and without a trace of teasing. Matt raises an eyebrow, swallowing hard as he nods and does as Mohinder asked, turning over and propping himself on knees and elbows.

Mohinder licks suddenly dry lips, rubbing a hand along Matt's lower back and then dragging his fingers along the crease of Matt's backside, leaving a slick trail of lube in the wake of his fingers.

Matt gasps, hips pushing back into Mohinder's too-soft touch. Mohinder keeps the pressure light as his finger circles Matt's entrance. When he presses inside, Matt stifles his groan against his forearm and Mohinder can't tear his eyes away from the profile of Matt's face. Mohinder prepares him slowly, drawing out each press and withdrawal, stroking Matt's prostate and reveling in the stifled gasps and moans. He loves to watch Matthew lose himself.

"Mohinder," Matt breathes, an edge of pleading in his roughening voice.

Mohinder moves to kneel behind him, leaning forward to press his lips to Matt's lower back. "I'm here," he murmurs against skin, steadying himself with a hand on Matt's hip. He positions himself at Matt's entrance, his lips still pressed to skin, breathing in Matt's scent as he pushes slowly inside.

Even stifled, Matt's groan seems loud in the quiet. Mohinder's grip tightens on Matt's hips and Matt pushes eagerly back against him, taking Mohinder's cock completely inside.

It's Mohinder's turn to moan, pressing his forehead to Matt's back. Matt feels tight and hot and perfect wrapped around him and Mohinder tries desperately to hold on to his control. Matt shifts restlessly and Mohinder is lost. He withdraws, then presses home again, one swift, hard motion of hips that leaves them both gasping.

"God, yes," Matt groans. His wrists had been crossed under his forehead, but now he braces them against the base of the headboard, pushing back into Mohinder's driving thrusts.

Mohinder's hands latch onto Matt's hips, his fingers livid with the force of his grip. He slams deep into Matt's tight channel, biting his lip to keep from calling out. He tells himself he doesn't have to say a word, because Matt can hear all the things that rush around in his head. That doesn't make it any easier to keep himself quiet.

_Love to see you like this, Matthew. So beautiful._

Matt makes a desperate, choked sound, meeting each of Mohinder's thrusts with equal fervor and force. Mohinder is only vaguely aware of the sounds around them, the stifled gasps, the soft slap of skin meeting skin, the almost inaudible murmur of Matt's voice. He has no idea what Matt's saying, but he's not sure he'd understand it even if Matt had shouted. There's room in his head for little besides sensation.

It's perfect, the feel of Matt around him, the feel of Matt's skin beneath his hands. He changes his angle, stroking Matt's prostate with every thrust. His orgasm builds, his nerves coming alive to the pleasure as it bounces from one nerve ending to the next. His balls tighten, pushing him nearer and nearer to the edge, but he wants this moment to freeze, to last for days, for weeks, _for eons_.

He forces himself to loosen his grip on Matt's hips, sliding his hand around to grip Matt's cock, full and so very hard. Matt's entire body tightens beneath him. Mohinder strokes Matt in time with his own thrusts, closing his eyes to better _feel_ every rushing, wild heartbeat.

He bends with the pleasure of it all, pressing his forehead to Matt's back, his body so tense he's almost vibrating with it. His climax rushes over him, a wave pounding against a shore, leaving Mohinder spinning in its wake. He bites Matt's back to smother his shout and feels Matt moving under him, spasming and tightening as he comes. Mohinder's nerves are on fire and the pounding of blood in his ears is the loudest thing he's ever heard.

He collapses against Matt, his full weight resting against his lover. Then Matt collapses as well and they lay exhausted, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the quiet morning.

Mohinder knows that, in a little while, the alarm will go off. They'll have to wake Molly from her peaceful rest and the three of them will shuffle around the apartment getting ready for the day. They'll eat breakfast and bicker over who gets the bathroom when. They'll chatter about the day they have before them, and make sure Molly has her homework and her lunch. But just now there's only sweat-slicked skin against skin, the sound of ragged breathing, and the solid feel of Matthew beneath him.

Mohinder loves all of it. Loves the home they've built from nothing, loves the routine, loves knowing that when he comes home there will be two wonderful people to welcome him. He loves Molly, and though neither he nor Matt have said the words, he loves Matthew.

And he loves the mornings best.


End file.
